


it feels like we are dying (but baby we’re just fine)

by sunsetozier



Series: ready, set, repeat [1]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Characters, M/M, Not Really?, it’ll make sense when you read it, there’s death but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 09:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13385352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetozier/pseuds/sunsetozier
Summary: “You’re Eddie fucking Kaspbrak and you deserve all the good things the world has to offer, okay?“[In which Richie would do anything for Eddie, no matter how hard it may be.]





	it feels like we are dying (but baby we’re just fine)

**Author's Note:**

> this took like a week to write because of school. it’s very lightly edited, so sorry if i missed any typos or mistakes.
> 
> also: they’re seventeen in this. i don’t mention age until near the end so i figured i’d let y’all know ahead of time.

            It’s a regular autumn Thursday.

            The air is crisp when Richie clambers out of his house, wearing a loose band T-Shirt with a flannel thrown over it and dark jeans. His hair is tucked hazardously into a beanie, strands coming loose as he climbs into his beat-down car and tosses his backpack into the passenger seat. His breath is visible when he exhales, puffs of white leaving his parted lips as he scrambles to start the vehicle, quickly turning on the heater and rubbing his hands together for warmth.

            “Fuckin’  _cold_ ,” he murmurs to himself, grimacing as a shiver runs down his spine, the air vents hitting him with a blast of cold air before it starts to warm up. Sighing heavily, he shifts the car out of park and pulls out of the driveway, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of whatever song comes on the radio.

            When he gets to school, he makes his way inside as fast as possible, wanting nothing more than to escape the freezing weather. His friends are gathered together by the front door, as always, and cheerily greet him when he steps through the doors.

            “Hey, assholes,” Richie huffs in return, casting a bitter look over his shoulder. “It’s too fucking cold today.”

            Eddie chuckles, taking a step closer so that Richie can drape his right arm over his shoulders, an action of instinct between the two. “Maybe you should wear an actual jacket,” Eddie quips, grabbing at Richie’s flannel and frowning at how thin the material is. “You’ll get sick if you keep wearing this.”

            Richie hums, his lips twitching into a sideways smile that always spells trouble. “You don’t need to worry about me, Eds,” he coos obnoxiously, lifting his left hand to pinch at Eddie’s cheeks. “I’ll be just fine! And if I do get sick, I know you’ll take good care of me, Dr. K.”

            “Fuck off,” Eddie laughs with the roll of his eyes, swatting away Richie’s hand. “If you get sick, you’re on your own, dumbass.”

            Jutting out his lower lip into a pout, Richie whines, “You hurt me, Eddie!”

            A few feet away from them, Bill interrupts them with a chuckle, saying, “C’mon, losers. We’re gonna be late to first period.”

            “Ew,” Richie says, crinkling his nose in distaste, though he still lets Eddie lead him down the hall with quick waves to the others as they separate for their first class of the day. Beverly and Stan take off towards the math hall, while Ben, Bill, and Mike make their way towards their English class. Eddie and Richie stay in the main hall, turning into the first classroom on the right for Astronomy, where they’re greeted by the teacher with a half-hearted raise of the hand.

            Eddie, raised to be nothing but polite, nods at their teacher and chirps, “Good morning, Miss Smith!”

            Miss Smith doesn’t answer, just lowers her hand and offers a tight-lipped smile before turning back to the paper on her desk. “Every fucking time,” Richie snickers under his breath, withdrawing his arm from Eddie’s shoulder’s so that they can slide into their seats.

            “Shut up,” Eddie says, laughing softly. “It doesn’t hurt being nice, you know.”

            “It doesn’t hurt  _you_ ,” Richie corrects, “because you’re a nice person. I’m a natural born asshole, so if I try to be nice, it feels like a knife plunging straight into my ribcage.”

            Eddie frowns. “You’re disgusting.”

            Richie’s grin widens as he retorts, “Obviously, but you love me anyway.”

            “I think I’m just stuck with you, actually,” Eddie sighs heavily, acting upset. “Maybe I did something horrible in a past life and this is my punishment.”

            “Or,” Richie offers, “you did something  _amazing_  and  _I’m_  your reward.”

            Eddie snorts. “Not a chance, Trashmouth.”

            Dramatically placing a hand over his heart, Richie fakes a sob. Before he can make up some comment that would have no doubt been annoying or inappropriate in some capacity, the bell rings and Miss Smith pushes herself to her feet, exclaiming, “Good morning, students, and happy Thursday to you all! The week’s almost over!”

            Richie pouts, dropping his hand onto the desk and feigning a heartbroken look for being interrupted. Glancing over at him, Eddie chuckles, whispering, “Serves you right,” as he takes out his notebook and a pencil for notes.

            “Asshole,” Richie fires back quietly, pulling out his own pen and paper before slouching back in his chair.

            Class goes by fairly fast, as it’s just a simple day of note taking, conversation, and no homework (to which Richie audibly cheers). For second period, he sits between Bill and Mike for Pre-Calculus, where he just jots down the homework assignment and spaces out while staring at the board. Math comes easy to him, and looking at the book is all it takes for him to pass the class with a solid B+. In third period, him and Beverly fuck around in Chemistry, having already finished the project the class is working around, and soon enough it’s lunch time.

            When Beverly and Richie push through the doors to the cafeteria, they’re not surprised to see Eddie already at the table — the boy is usually the first of their group to arrive. Beverly slides into the seat across from Eddie while Richie falls onto the one to the boy’s right.

            “Afternoon, Eds,” Richie grins. “How’s your day going?”

            Eddie turns to face him with a laugh, rolling his eyes as he says, “Well, it started with you bugging me, like usual, so it was pretty shit. Once first period ended, it was going great, but now you’re back so it’s pretty shit again.”

            Richie’s grin turns into a pout as he turns to look at Beverly, who’s giggling into her palm, and jabs his thumb in Eddie’s direction. “Do you hear this?” he asks, sniffling dramatically for good measure. “He doesn’t appreciate me!”

            “Shut up, Richie,” Stan interrupts as he approaches, tossing his bag onto the seat beside Beverly. “C’mon Bev, Bill and I are going to get in line for lunch.”

            Beverly laughs outright, letting Stan pull her to her feet and pretend-swooning as she says, “My heroes, saving me from the dreaded beast that is Richie Tozier!”

            “What about me?!” Eddie exclaims, grimacing. “Why don’t I get to be saved?”

            “I’m feeling really unloved right now,” Richie states.

            Stan shrugs as him and Bev start to walk away, answering, “You’re the only one who can tame the beast, Eddie.”

            “Why am I friends with you assholes?” Richie asks, sighing heavily.

            Eddie’s grimace turns into a smile as he shakes his head fondly. “You know we love you, Rich.”

            “Speak for yourself,” Mike chuckles, sliding into an empty seat, Ben right behind him.

            “That’s it,” Richie says, pushing himself to his feet angrily, though the twitch of his lips gives away the fact that he’s joking. “No one here appreciates me! I’m going to go outside and have a smoke, at least I know my cigarettes love me.”

            Eddie laughs loudly, grabbing Richie’s sleeve before he can walk away. “Sit down, Trashmouth,” he states, “I brought extra food for you, so you can’t say I don’t love you.”

            Falling back into his seat, Richie grins at Mike and Ben, happily sighing out, “See? This is why Eddie’s my favorite. He  _actually_  cares about me!”

            Lunch carries on like that, with bickering and jokes, as per usual. The time passes quickly, and soon they’re back in their classes for the second half of the day. Richie’s fourth period is his least favorite — fucking health class. It wouldn’t be that bad if he wasn’t completely alone, but all of his friends took this class last year, so he’s stuck in here with people younger than him listening to the American public-school version of sex educational.

            To put it simply, he comes to fourth period every day to hear the teacher say, “Hey, don’t have sex. If you do, you’re stupid. Now here’s every single reason why sex should terrify you.”

            It’s bullshit.

            Fifth period is a lot easier to get through, just a simple history class with Beverly, Ben, and Eddie. The work isn’t too hard and they’re able to help each other out easily, taking notes when necessary, usually sharing tired gazes when they’re ready to leave.

            And, finally, the bell rings and they can go home.

            “Rich,” Eddie says as they’re packing up their bags, glancing up to see if Richie heard him before looking back down to shove his book in his backpack. “Can you stay at my place for a bit instead of just dropping me off? As much as I hate to admit it, you’re the best math student in the group and I have no clue how to do the homework I got.”

            Richie nods, sporting his usual grin as he slides his backpack onto his shoulders and waits for Eddie to finish packing up. “Yeah, of course! It’s been awhile since I’ve seen your mom anyway, she probably misses me.”

            Scoffing, Eddie finally manages to zip up his bag and toss it over his shoulder, an unimpressed look on his features as they make their way out of the classroom. “Really? A joke about my mom? I thought you grew out of those last year.”

            “I will never tire of your mother,” Richie states as seriously as he can manage. “No matter how much she tires me out when we’re together.”

            Shoving Richie’s shoulder, Eddie rolls his eyes and mumbles, “You’re disgusting, Tozier.”

            “You love me, Kaspbrak,” Richie sing-songs.

            “Not really,” Eddie shrugs as they push the doors of the school open and make their way to the parking lot. “This is really just a very elaborate plan to murder you. Today, maybe. I hope you weren’t looking forward to the sunrise tomorrow, you might not be alive long enough to see it.”

            They make it to Richie’s car, pausing as Richie fumbles with the keys. He lets out a sarcastic sounding laugh as he unlocks the doors and muses, “Yeah, sure, kill your only friend who’ll help you with your math homework. Sounds smart.”

            “You’re not the only one willing to help me,” Eddie defends, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly and glaring at Richie over the hood of the car. “You’re just the one who’s best at doing Pre-Calc. Really, the only reason I’ve kept you around is so that I’ll pass my math classes.” Smirking, he cocks his head to the side and adds, “Better be careful, Trashmouth. After we graduate, I won’t need you anymore. That’s when I’ll kill you.”

            Shaking his head fondly, Richie says, “Just get in the car, you fucking loser.”

            Eddie giggles, uncrossing his arms to slide into the passenger seat and toss his backpack into the back seat, Richie following suit, starting the car as soon as their doors are closed. The heater blasts them with cold air first, taking a moment to start heating up. Wordlessly, Richie reaches over to grab an extra jacket from his backseat and hands it to Eddie, who’s teeth are chattering as he gratefully accepts it and slips it on over his sweater.

            “I hate winter,” Richie states, backing out of the parking spot.

            “Winter’s not bad,” Eddie reasons. “Just gotta dress warmer, Rich.”

            Richie fixes him a pointed look before turning his eyes to the road, replying, “I can dress warmer, sure, that’s fine, but look! It’s technically still fall and the roads are already icy!”

            Chuckling, Eddie looks out the window as they turn out of the parking lot and assures, “Just drive carefully, asshat. We’ll be fine.”

            “I always drive carefully,” Richie says. “My driving skills have nothing to do with ice, Eds. If there’s a patch of black ice that I can’t see, we’re fucked.”

            And that’s when it happens.

            There’s no warning, no moment like in the movies where everything slows down and plays out in a frame-by-frame manner. There’s nothing to prepare him for the way his car is suddenly hit by another vehicle, and then they’re spinning, tumbling, rolling. He thinks there’s screaming (maybe it’s him, maybe it’s Eddie, maybe it’s someone outside of the car seeing this happen) but it’s hard to tell over the sound of metal scraping violently against the pavement and glass shattering.

            And then the world stops and everything is deathly silent.

            They’re on the side of the road now, the car upright despite the fact that Richie is almost certain they rolled at least once. He gurgles out a low groan, his mind unable to comprehend the pain that he’s feeling as he slowly turns his head, blinking heavily to try and clear his vision. “Eddie?” he tries to force out, his own voice echoing painfully in his head. “Eds? Are you okay?” Through the blur of tears and the crack in his glasses, he finally focuses his eyes on Eddie. His heart stutters in his chest. “ _Shit_ ,” he murmurs, fear and adrenaline pushing away his pain as he scrambles to unbuckle his seat belt. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!”

            Eddie is completely still in the passenger seat, covered with blood (blood in his hair, blood on his skin, blood staining his clothes), his face pale, his chest barely moving.

            Still moving, though. Moving is good. Moving means he’s alive.

            “Eddie,” Richie hisses out, leaning over to examine his unconscious friend, lightly shaking his shoulder. “Eddie, c’mon. Wake up!”

            “ _Fuck_ ,” is the first thing from Eddie’s mouth, the word ghosted in a heavy exhale as his face scrunches up in pain. He slowly opens his eyes, squinting as though the light hurts.

            Richie sighs in relief. “Christ, Eds, don’t scare me like that!”

            Glancing over, Eddie starts to visibly panic. “Holy fuck, Rich–”

            “It’s fine,” Richie interrupts, placing his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. “We’re okay. A little fucked up and bloody, sure, but okay.”

            “No,” Eddie whimpers, his breathing getting shallow as tears gather in his eyes. “No, no,  _fuck_ , Richie, I can’t- oh my god, I can’t feel my legs, Richie, I can’t move them!”

            Richie swears that everything freezes — Derry, Maine, the country, the world — fucking time itself comes to a standstill in this moment. “It’s okay,” he chokes out, knowing that he’s lying but not wanting his friend to panic even more. “Eddie, hey, look at me. It’ll be okay, alright? Just breathe, Eds. Breathe with me.”

            But it seems as if Eddie can’t stop, can’t control his sharp inhales or shallow exhales, can’t control it as his eyelids begin to flutter. “Richie,” he murmurs repeatedly, voice so fear stricken that it hurts to listen to.

            “Eddie,” Richie frantically begs, his hands trembling as he cups them around Eddie’s cheeks. “No, don’t you fucking dare- stay awake, Eds. Look at me, okay? Look at me, keep your eyes open.”

            Eddie’s breathing gets softer, slower, but not in a good way. It’s getting weak. “Richie,” he says again, as if that’s the only word he can remember, as if that name will get him through this. “Rich, I...”

            He lets out one more breath, a quiet, stuttering breath, and then he stops moving.

            A sob rips its way out of Richie throat as he suddenly sits up in bed, the sun rising outside, his house quiet save for his own cries. It takes a moment for his disoriented brain to realize where he is (in his room, not in a car wreck), and even then it takes a few more minutes to get his breathing in control. He can feel the cold sweat sticking to his clothes (fearfully checks to make sure it isn’t blood) and collapses back against his pillow with a shaky sigh.

            “Fuck,” he wheezes, running an unsteady hand through his hair.

            It isn’t a regular autumn Thursday anymore.

 

 

 

 

            After shaking off the terrifyingly vivid nightmare and pulling himself together, Richie makes his way to school, throwing on a warm sweatshirt instead of the shirt and flannel he had been planning to wear and making sure to be extra careful of any ice on the road. Despite the tension in his shoulders that refuses to go away, he manages to more or less force away any remnants of stress by the time he pushes open the doors to his school.

            Until he sees his friends.

            It seems impossible, but all of them — every single fucking one of them — are wearing the exact same outfits they had on in his nightmare. As soon as his eyes land on them, he feels the blood drain from his face, images of Eddie bloody, broken,  _dying_  in that very sweater flashing through his mind so suddenly that his stomach churns and he stumbles right past them to get to the bathroom. Pushing past the first stall door, he falls to his knees and empties the contents of his stomach into the toilet, eyes stinging and throat burning as he violently heaves.

            “Fucking hell, Rich, are you okay?!” he hears from behind him, followed by a gentle hand rubbing comforting circles against the center of his back.

            Richie makes an embarrassing noise, a mix between a groan and a sob, as he leans his forehead against the side of the stall. Wordlessly, he shakes his head, part of him wanting to turn around and look at Eddie whilst most of him is afraid that it’ll only make it worse.

            Humming softly, Eddie moves his hand up to Richie’s shoulder, saying, “C’mon, let’s get you home. I don’t think you should be at school today.”

            “I’m fine,” Richie huffs, letting his eyes rest as he slowly lifts his head, still refusing to look at Eddie until he knows he can handle it.

            Chuckling, Eddie sarcastically replies, “Oh, yeah, you’re  _totally_  fine. That’s why you just got sick in the school bathroom. Makes sense.”

            Despite the situation, Richie’s lips twitch into a small smile, and he finally opens his eyes and faces Eddie to glare at him jokingly. “Fuck off, asshole. I’m not sick, it was just... I dunno how to explain it. It’s dumb.”

            “If it made you barf, I don’t think it’s dumb,” Eddie states matter-of-factly, making Richie sigh, his heart still twisting painfully with the memory of his nightmare.

            “Fine,” he murmurs, casting his gaze downward to look at the floor in embarrassment. “It was just... I had a really fucked up dream last night, where you and I got in a car accident and you, uh- you died, basically, and it freaked me out when I woke up because of how vivid it was, y’know? But it was whatever, I still got up and got ready and shit, but once I got here, I...” he trails off, shaking is head with a grimace. “You guys- all of you are wearing the same exact clothes that you’d been wearing in my dream, and that just- that freaked me out real bad, I guess.” He shrugs, running a hand through his hair out of habit as he finishes with, “I don’t know. I told you, it’s dumb.”

            Eddie doesn’t respond at first, instead leaning forward to pull Richie into a tight embrace. “That’s not dumb,” he mumbles into Richie’s hair. “Not even a little bit.”

            If Richie’s eyes sting with grateful tears, neither of them mention it.

            “Come on, Trashmouth,” Eddie says, pulling back from the hug with a smile. “I think a really shitty dream is a good enough reason to skip school. Let’s go.”

            “Fine, fine, but only because you bring me food sometimes,” Richie sighs, pretending to be annoyed as Eddie helps pull him to his feet.

            Rolling his eyes, Eddie leads them out of the bathroom and pulls Richie out of the school by hand. “Don’t lie,” he chuckles. “We all know I’m your favorite.”

            Scoffing, Richie pulls out his keys and retorts, “Don’t flatter yourself, Eds.” He feels the rest if his words die in his throat, however, as he comes to a stop beside his car, paling at how much this feels just like his dream.

            Eddie notices the change in demeanor and quickly plucks the keys out of Richie’s hands. “Get in the car,” he says breezily. “I’m driving.”

            “What a gentleman,” Richie comments half-heartedly, rounding the vehicle to slip into the passenger seat as fast as possible. The cold air is seeping through his sweatshirt, and it’s just reminding him even more of the nightmare.

            Eddie climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the car, buckling himself in. “Tease me for being a gentleman all you want,” he says, giving the heaters a moment to start working before backing out of the parking spot. “I am the nicest person you know, admit it.”

            “Only because everyone else in Derry is a complete asshole,” Richie reasons, “and you’re only, like,  _half_  an asshole.”

            Snorting, Eddie shakes his head and murmurs, “Gee, thanks. What a compliment.”

            Richie nervously glances out the window as they pull out of the parking lot, eyeing the intersection ahead. It’s unreasonable, he knows — it was just a dream, for fucks sake, but he can’t help it when he anxiously holds his breath as they drive past it, remembering the way it felt when the other vehicle had rammed into the side of his car.

            They make it past the intersection just fine. “Relax, Richie,” Eddie soothes, glancing back and forth between his friend and the road. “We’re fine, see? We’ll be back at your place in two minutes, tops.”

            Richie exhales shakily, nodding along to Eddie’s words. He can tell he’s being ridiculous, but that nightmare had felt so real, as if he was actually there, as if it were really happening, and when he thinks about it he feels his throat tighten in fear. It’s annoying, really, but he can’t help it. “Yeah,” he breathes, trying to slow his heartrate back to a normal speed. “Yeah, we’re fine. It’s fine.”

            When they finally pull into Richie’s driveway, he can feel all the tension leave his body at once, fear being replaced with relief as he scrambles to get out of the car. Eddie looks concerned, but doesn’t speak until after they make their way inside, shivers running down their spines due to the cold. “See?” Eddie says, smiling. “I told you we’d be okay.”

            “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Richie shrugs, leading the way up the stairs to his bedroom. “I didn’t doubt you, I was just... I dunno, just scared, I guess.”

            Eddie sits on Richie’s bed as soon as they enter the room, his features soft and understanding. “I would’ve been scared, too,” he offers. “Probably ten times as scared as you.”

            Chuckling, Richie lays down next to the shorter boy and murmurs, “Nah, you’d handle it much better than me, I bet.” Before Eddie can respond, Richie rolls over to burrow his head into a pillow, pulling the blanket over them as he says, “Now shut up and sleep, I’m tired.”

            “I didn’t hear a please,” Eddie states, raising an eyebrow as he crosses his arms over his chest.

            Groaning, Richie lifts his head and glares at Eddie. “Okay,  _fine_ , Mr. Manners. Will you  _please_  shut the fuck up and lay down? It took me ten minutes this morning to wake up enough and realize you weren’t actually dead, I could use a good cuddle session with my best friend.”

            Features softening, Eddie complies, mumbling, “Only ‘cause you said please that time.”

            “Sure,” Richie bites back, but his voice holds no real hostility as he fully turns his body to wrap an arm around Eddie’s waist and bury his face into the crook of his neck. “Just be quiet and cuddle.”

            Within minutes, they’re both fast asleep.

 

 

 

 

            Richie stirs awake when he feels a hand softly yet urgently shaking his shoulder. Making a small noise of complaint, he turns his head and slowly blinks open his eyes, squinting through the light to try and focus his gaze on the figure in front of him.

            “Richie,” Eddie hisses quietly. “ _Fuck_ , Rich, there’s someone downstairs. Wake up!”

            Furrowing his brows in confusion, Richie pushes himself into a sitting position. “What?” he asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What do you mean?”

            Eddie swallows thickly, his eyes wide in fear. “I think someone broke in,” he explains in a panicky whisper. “I heard glass breaking and someone’s been stomping around downstairs for almost ten minutes now.”

            “It’s probably just my mom,” Richie sighs, though he keeps his voice down for the sake of his friend. “She didn’t come home last night, and sometimes she forgets her keys.”

            Shaking his head, Eddie parts his lips to say something, only to be cut off by a rough voice from downstairs asking, “Anything else?”

            There’s a low grunt in response, followed by a, “Fuck if I know, man. Let’s check upstairs and get out of here.”

            Silently, Richie climbs out of the bed, his eyes wide as he places a finger to his lips to make sure Eddie stays silent. Loud footsteps can be heard making their way up the stairs, causing Richie to rush towards the window with a last second plan. Eddie, still clearly terrified but managing to keep it together, follows in his footsteps.

            “You first,” Richie whispers, pushing open the window as silently as possible. Eddie looks like he wants to protest, but still nods, maneuvering as quickly and as carefully as he can to get through the window and onto the small side roof outside. Richie follows, shutting the window behind him before saying, “Okay, be careful, it’s slippery. We need to move so that they can’t see us, and when they leave we’ll go back inside and call the police. Okay?”

            Eddie breathes in shakily, nodding again as he cautiously scoots down the roof, holding onto Richie’s shoulder for balance as they move over until they’re certain they won’t be seen. Their breath is visible when they exhale heavily, trying to calm down as they listen intently for signs of the men inside.

            Through the wall, Richie hears the muffled voices as they rummage through his room. He wraps a comforting arm around Eddie’s shoulders, pulling them into a close embrace as they wait, and they wait, and wait, and wait, until their lips are turning blue and their teeth are chattering. Then, finally, they hear the front door slam shut, and they’re safe.

            “Jesus fucking Christ,” Richie breathes, quickly stepping over to throw open the window. “God, shit, it’s so fucking cold. Come on, get inside, you’re gonna freeze!”

            Eddie hums, not even bothering to respond as he shuffles forward and tries to move through the window. He leans against the windowsill, grabs onto the side, but he shifts his weight too far and his hand slips and he’s falling. Eddie’s falling, and Richie reaches out and tries to catch him but it’s too late.

            The only thing he hears is a yelp and a horrible cracking noise before he’s sitting up in his bed again, gasping for air and throwing off his blanket in a panicked daze.

 

 

 

 

            He thinks he’s going insane.

            He can’t bring himself to leave his bed yet, despite the fact that school starts in twenty minutes; he feels rooted to his sheets and his pillows like he’ll die if he gets up. Except he won’t die, Eddie will.

            “Jesus,” he breathes, scrubbing his hands over his features as he rolls onto his side and draws his knees up to his chest. It doesn’t help, not in the slightest, but he takes a moment to pretend it does and uses that moment to steady his breathing. Maybe if he can just get himself to calm down, he can properly think about what’s happening.

            If anything is actually happening, which it probably isn’t, because it’s fucking impossible and it makes no sense and god, fuck, shit, he’s going crazy, he’s losing his fucking mind—

            Screwing his eyes shut, he tangles his fingers into his hair and tugs, trying to ground himself and stop his thoughts from spiraling any further. He knows the only way he’ll be able to really process anything is if he calms down, so he clears his mind and breathes.

            “Okay,” he murmurs, pushing himself into a sitting position, wrapping his arms tightly around his legs to press his knees tighter against his chest. “Okay, okay, it’s fine. It’s fine.”

            But it’s not.

            He knows it’s not, not by a long shot is any part of this fine. The first one was- okay, the car crash was terrifying, but he could tell himself it was a dream. A horrible, vivid dream, but a dream nonetheless. The second one, however...

            It felt so real, but it couldn’t have been, right? It’s not like Eddie’s actually dying, Richie saw him after the car accident. He knows Eddie didn’t die even though he saw it happen (twice).

            But it’s not a dream. He knows it. He can feel it. He just doesn’t know what it is, or why it’s happening, or how to make it stop.

            Sighing heavily, he leans back against the headboard and lets his eyes flutter closed. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

 

 

 

 

            He gets to school halfway through first period, trudging through the classroom door with his eyes downcast and his heart hammering in his chest. He can feel concerned eyes burning holes into his skin, but he can’t meet them, not yet. If he does, he might start crying.

            “Rich,” Eddie murmurs once the taller boy slides into his seat, giving him so time to mentally prepare himself. “You okay?”

            “Yeah,” he tries to say, but his voice cracks embarrassingly and gives him away. Sniffling, he clears his throat and repeats, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m, uh- I’m fine.”

            Eddie places a hand on Richie’s shoulder, gentle and kind (and Richie can only see that very hand outstretched as he fell down, down, hitting the ground with a terrible noise of breaking bones) as he asks, “Richie, what’s wrong?”

            “Nothing,” Richie tries to insist, but his throat is closing and the panic he spent so long shoving away this morning is overwhelming him to the point that his hands are trembling and his eyes sting with unshed tears, and he’s not fine, he should have stayed home, maybe then Eddie won’t die, maybe it’s his fault, maybe he’s causing this-

            Eddie pushes himself to his feet suddenly, rounding the table to go up to Miss Smith and whisper something to her. After a moment, she looks at Richie with a worried look and nods, murmuring something in return. Quickly, Eddie returns to their table and grabs both of their bags, softly saying, “C’mon, Rich,” as he grabs Richie by the wrist and carefully leads him out of the classroom.

            Inhaling sharply, Richie asks, “Where are we going?”

            “I’m taking you home.”

            Richie’s heart stutters as he plants his feet on the ground, shaking his head urgently as he begs, “No, no, no, no, not my house! We can’t go back to my house, ‘cause the- the people- they- and the roof- and we’ll- you’ll–”

            “Richie,” Eddie interrupts, voice soothing. “Hey, it’s okay. We won’t go to your place, alright?” When Richie’s breathing starts to get shallow, he drags them into the bathroom and drops their bags to the ground carelessly before cupping Richie’s cheeks and meeting his gaze. “Breathe, Rich, okay? Breathe with me.”

            Nodding, Richie tries to do as he’s told, but it feels physically impossible when his chest is aching and his throat is closed and he’s losing control and the bathroom door is flung open and there’s some Sophomore jackass standing there with homophobic slurs dripping from his tongue and a gun in his hand and there’s one moment where the noise of gunfire is so loud that Richie swears it echoes in his bedroom when he sits up in bed with a sob.

            And so it repeats.

 

 

 

 

            Twenty-three.

            Richie Tozier has seen Eddie Kaspbrak die twenty-three fucking times.

            At this point, Richie is starting to think this is his personal Hell, and maybe he’ll spend all of eternity in a constant loop, forced to watch the person he cares about most die over and repeatedly. Or maybe it is a nightmare, a horrible, twisted, unfairly vivid nightmare that he just can’t wake up from.

            He has no clue  _what_  it is, but he just wants it to stop. Every single time he closes his eyes, he sees Eddie — with a bullet in his head, with lifeless eyes, with broken bones and tears on his cheeks, with a yell of fear that suddenly cuts off in the most horrible of ways. The worst part, really, is that Richie has tried everything his can to save Eddie. He’s dragged Eddie all over town, just trying to find the one place that’ll be safe, the one place that won’t get Eddie killed. So far, nothing has worked.

            This is his twenty-fourth Thursday, and he can’t give up (refuses to give up, for Eddie’s sake) but he’s almost out of ideas, so he does the first thing that pops into his mind.

            When he walks into the school, Richie doesn’t bother saying hello, instead just grabbing Eddie by the wrist and instantly leading him outside. Eddie huffs, but doesn’t fight it as he asks, “What the fuck, Richie?”

            “Road-trip,” Richie states simply, suppressing a yawn. “We’re getting out of Derry for the day.”

            “Richie,” Eddie says, obviously conflicted between being bewildered and concerned. “No, Rich, we can’t just- are you okay?”

            Richie nods, trying his best to smile as they reach his car. “Peachy,” he promises, “I’m just sick of this place. I want to drive away for the day but if I go alone, I’ll get myself killed.”

            Rolling his eyes, Eddie sighs as he makes his way around the car to slide into the passenger seat, murmuring, “You’re gonna get  _me_  killed, you asshole.”

            Richie flinches. “Never,” he says, trying to keep his tone light as he starts the car, a heaviness in his chest that hasn’t gone away since the fourth Thursday. “I’d get myself killed saving you.”

            “Or neither of us could get killed,” Eddie offers, chuckling lightly as they make their way down the road. “We could, I dunno, go back to school and survive?”

            Scoffing, Richie muses, “Hell no, that place will kill us, too! It’s just methodical, torturing us for twelve years before murdering us at graduation.”

            A bark of laughter escapes Eddie, and for a moment Richie feels like this could be it. Maybe this time he got it right. “So,” Eddie starts, curiously glancing between Richie and the road, “where are we going?”

            “Wherever you want,” Richie replies.

            Eddie hums in consideration, biting his lower lip as he thinks. Suddenly, his eyes light up. “Portland?” he asks, grinning sheepishly. “It’s like, a two-hour drive, but we could just spend the day in the city. Maybe even get a hotel, stay overnight?”

            “And skip school tomorrow, too?” Richie whistles. “Damn, Kaspbrak, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

            “Shut up,” Eddie murmurs, his cheeks tinted red. “It’s just an idea, okay? I haven’t been to a city since I was eight.”

            Richie purses his lips, trying not to let his eyes drift away from the road but unable to stop himself from glancing at his best friend. “You sure that’s where you want to go?”

            Shrugging, Eddie admits, “I mean, I’ve actually been wanting to go for a few months now, but anytime I mention the idea to my mom she freaks out about all the dangers in the city.”

            “You should have told me,” Richie tsk’s, feeling his heart swell in his chest as they pass the sign for Derry. “I would have kidnapped you a lot sooner, Eds.”

            Eddie rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother trying to hide his excited smile as he leans forward to turn on the radio. Richie has the overwhelming urge to hold his hand, but he doesn’t want to risk crashing just because he didn’t have both hands on the wheel, so instead he cheers loudly and sings along even louder.

            “You’re ridiculous,” Eddie laughs, but soon joins in, singing along to every song that comes out of the shitty speakers.

            It’s a long drive, and they have to make a stop halfway there to get snacks and fill the gas tank, but nothing life threatening happens. Richie can feel the weight lifting from his shoulders with every passing minute. He watches the way Eddie stares excitedly out the window as they enter the city, his eyes wide and sparkling, and wow. Wow, okay, that’s-

            Okay. Okay, he might be in love. Just a little bit.

            Shit.

            “Do you want to find a hotel first?” Richie asks, clearing his throat as he turns back towards the road.

            Eddie doesn’t even glance away from the window as he murmurs, “Sounds good to me.”

            Smiling fondly, Richie starts looking out for a nice (yet cheap) looking hotel, his mind drifting off to his very sudden, but not really surprising, realization. It makes sense, really, if he thinks about it — a few Thursday’s ago, he had wondered that if this is a nightmare, why isn’t it about all of his friends dying? Why just Eddie?

            Now he knows.

            “There,” Eddie says, pointing out the window. “That’s where Bill said he stayed when he came here for the weekend with Bev. It’s pretty nice, apparently, and not too expensive.”

            Richie follows the direction Eddie’s pointing in and quickly turns into the parking lot, shutting the car off with a large grin. “Looks good,” he comments, looking at the small motel in front of them. It doesn’t look very popular, if the lack of other vehicles in the lot says anything, but the whole building gives off a nice vibe.

            A safe vibe.

            “Let’s go check in,” he says, reaching into the backseat to grab the sweatshirt he’d thrown off during the drive. He hesitates, seeing the spare jacket he‘d given Eddie on the very first Thursday, and decides, fuck it. “Here,” he adds, handing the jacket to Eddie almost timidly. “It’s still freezing out.”

            Smiling gratefully, Eddie puts the large jacket on over his sweater and murmurs a soft, “Thanks, Rich.”

            Swallowing down the urge to kiss him, Richie nods once and throws open the driver’s door. “No need to thank me. Now, come on! We have a city to explore!”

            It doesn’t take long to get a room, thankfully. They go for the cheapest option, a small room with one bed, and they split the cost in half before accepting the room key and scurrying back outside. Eddie instantly grabs Richie by the wrist and drags him across the street to a cafe, insisting that they get some real food (“Gas station food doesn’t count as a fucking meal, dipshit.”) and hot chocolate to keep them warm.

            “I’ll overheat in the car if I have a hot chocolate,” Richie whines.

            Eddie slides his hand down and intertwines their fingers as if it’s a normal thing for them to do (which, yeah, it kind of is) and glares at Richie before stating, “We’re in the city, we’re not gonna be driving around.”

            Richie’s jaw drops. “What- you want us to  _walk_? In this weather? Are you fucking nuts?!”

            “It’s not that bad!” Eddie defends, jutting his lower lip out in a pout. “Besides, if we walk around then the money we’d be spending on gas could go towards dinner, or souvenirs, or something.”

            As much as Richie wants to argue, to bicker and tease and do as he normally would, he finds himself incapable. It’s pretty clear at this point, after living through twenty-three Thursday’s and losing his fucking mind every single time, that he’s willing to do anything for Eddie Kaspbrak. Sighing heavily, Richie turns to face the barista and begrudgingly orders two hot chocolates.

            Eddie grins, squeezing Richie’s hand as he chimes in with whatever pastries he deems fit.

            “You’re lucky I like you, Kaspbrak,” Richie murmurs.

            “You  _love_  me,” Eddie corrects jokingly.

            Richie rolls his eyes, but doesn’t deny it, because, well- yeah. Yeah, he does.

            They roam around aimlessly for awhile, taking their time to look at all the shops as they walk by them and taking slow sips of their drinks. It’s still cold as all hell, but it isn’t as bad as expected (not that Richie would admit it to Eddie, of course). Once their cups are empty, they finally start wandering into random shops to look at what they have.

            “We have to be picky,” Eddie declares. “With both of our money, we should be able to get back home tomorrow no problem, but I don’t want to risk it, so we can’t buy anything unless we really,  _really_  want it.”

            Richie agrees easily. The first thing he purchases is for Eddie, because, “That looks way too cute on you, Eds! If you’re not gonna buy it, I will!”

            Flushing, Eddie tries to stop him, but when they leave the shop he’s wearing his new red sweatshirt that compliments the gentle blush on his cheeks, Richie grinning proudly by his side. In retaliation, Eddie searches the next shop they stop at for something to buy Richie, eventually deciding on a simple black sweater with a dark red floral design on the shoulders. Richie whines and pouts, but doesn’t bother arguing once he sees the determination in Eddie’s eyes.

            The employee behind the counter points out that the reds match, making the perfect couples outfits. Eddie and Richie go red in the face, but neither of them correct the statement.

            Richie’s heart soars when the sky starts to dim. Thursday is almost over — the twenty fourth Thursday he’s lived, each one worse than the last, is almost over. Finally, the torturous loop may end.

            “I wanna watch the sunset,” Eddie randomly blurts, looking a bit bashful once the words are out there.

            Nodding, Richie says, “Then let’s find somewhere to watch the sunset.”

            It sounds perfect, to sit somewhere nice, holding hands with Eddie as they peacefully watch the sky turn from blue to pink, from pink to orange, from orange to black. Maybe, once the stars are bright and twinkling and the clock passes midnight and it’s finally Friday, Richie will make a move, confess his feelings, or something just as cheesy.

            It sounds so fucking perfect that of course, of fucking course, it gets ruined.

            As they’re crossing the street, it happens, and Richie doesn’t fucking know how it happens because he was certain the road was clear, but it still happens. Out of nowhere, a car appears, driving too fast and hitting the brakes too late, and Richie tries to push Eddie out of the way but there’s no time before the vehicle slams into the both of them so hard that Richie thinks maybe he’ll die this time. His head collides with the pavement before the rest of his body does, and it hurts, everything fucking hurts, but he doesn’t care. As soon as he’s managed to blink the spots out of his vision, he shoves the pain to the back of his mind and instantly pushes himself to his feet.

            “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he murmurs, limping over to where Eddie lays a few feet away, blood already pooling around him from god knows where. Falling to his knees beside his friend (his best friend, the boy he loves, the most important person in his life), Richie rolls Eddie’s body over to examine the damage.

            Eddie coughs violently, staring up at Richie with glazes over eyes, his parted lips moving slightly as if he’s trying to form words but just can’t get his voice to work. After a moment, he apparently gives up and closes his mouth, wincing in pain every time he inhales.

            Richie hates this, hates every fucking moment of it. “It’s okay,” he soothes, his words shaky yet confident. Fortunately (and unfortunately) he’s been through this enough to know how to steel himself for the sake of the other boy. “It’ll be okay, Eds. I got you. You’re fine.”

            “R- Ri–”

            “No,” Richie interrupts, shaking his head. “No, don’t- it’s okay. Don’t waste your energy, okay? It’ll be alright.”

            There’s still some fear on Eddie’s features, but above that is trust. He trusts Richie, so much that even in a moment like this (in the past twenty-three moments like this) he lets himself believe that what he’s being told is true.

            It breaks Richie’s heart, but he tries not to show it. Instead, he inhales deeply and vows, “I’m not giving up until I save you, alright? I don’t care how many times it takes. I’ll go through this a million times if I have to.”

            Eddie’s eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion, but he can’t seem to linger on it as he starts to become disoriented. Cursing under his breath, Richie starts to wonder if this will ever really end. What if he does go through this a million times? He wasn’t lying when he said he’ll do it if he has to, but the thought of seeing Eddie die so many times is unbearable.

            But what else is there? He’s officially out of ideas on what he can do. Leaving Derry hadn’t even worked, what else could it be? The only thing he can think of is finding a padded room and locking them in, but that’d be fucking insane. What else could he do, though, that he hasn’t already done-

            Oh.

            _Oh_.

            When Richie blinks open his eyes, back in his bedroom once again, he knows exactly what he has to do.

 

 

 

 

            It takes him awhile to get everything put together, but soon enough the trunk of Richie’s car is packed with everything he needs. For extra measure, he sneaks past his mother’s sleeping figure in his parent’s bedroom and steals the money stashed in the dresser; his mom would just spend it on more booze, no doubt, so he’s really doing a favor by taking it. As a second thought, he grabs an armful of blankets and clothes, despite the fact that he already has more than enough in his car. If all goes well, he won’t be back home until Monday. Better to be safe than sorry.

            He stops at the gas station closest to his house to grab a cheap map of Portland and sits in his car with the heater blasting as he circles certain spots in the city, jotting down his ideas as he goes. Once he feels confident in what he has, he folds the map back up and sets it on the dashboard.

            By the time he reaches the school, third period is about to end and he feels so confident that he waits outside of Eddie’s class. He restlessly paces back and forth, every second feeling longer than the last, until finally the bell rings and students file into the hall.

            “Richie?” Eddie asks, surprised as he makes his way out of his classroom. “Why weren’t you here this morning?”

            For a moment, Richie spaces out, his wide eyes gazing at Eddie with too many thoughts swirling in his head to keep track of. Shaking it off, he gently wraps his fingers around Eddie’s wrist and murmurs, “I know this’ll sound insane, but it’s important, okay? Come with me, right now. Please?”

            Eddie frowns, clearly bewildered as he slowly nods. “Okay,” he agrees hesitantly. “Can I know why? Are you okay?”

            “Never been better,” Richie replies, grinning as he leads the way, and it’s the first time in days (or just day? Many Thursdays?) that he’s been honest about how he is. Maybe he’s just getting his hopes up, and maybe he’ll be let down, but he feels so sure right now.

            “Alright,” Eddie drawls slowly, unconvinced. “Where are we going?”

            Pushing past the school doors, Richie guides them to his car and says, “First stop, your house.”

            “And after that?”

            “A surprise,” Richie doesn’t hesitate to answer as they get into the car, Eddie thankfully not noticing the hazardous pile of blankets and clothes hurriedly hidden on the floor of the backseat. “One I think you’ll like.”

            Eddie huffs, crossing his arms over his chest as he glares at Richie. “Can I at least get a god damn hint here?”

            Humming in fake consideration, Richie sighs and responds, “Okay, fine. I  _know_  you’ll like it.”

            “That doesn’t help, Richie!” Eddie whines.

            “Huh,” Richie smirks, “that’s odd. It’s almost like I’m trying not to be helpful for the sake of keeping the surprise an actual surprise.”

            Eddie pouts. “You’re the fucking worst, Tozier.”

            Shrugging one shoulder, Richie pulls out of the parking lot and heads towards Eddie’s house, teasing, “And you love me anyway!”

            With a scoff, Eddie turns to look out the window, though the way his lips twitch up into a small smile ruins his angry act. After a moment, he asks, “Can I know  _why_  I’m getting this surprise?”

            “Because,” Richie starts, “I happened to have an amazing idea and wanted to do something nice for you. Is that so bad?”

            “No,” Eddie mumbles, “but it’s hard to believe that this came out of nowhere.”

            Pursing his lips, Richie admits, “It kind of did and it kind of didn’t. But trust me, you’ll enjoy it.”  _I hope_ , he thinks, gnawing on his lower lip as they pull into Eddie’s driveway, trying to shrug off the tension in his shoulders as he throws open the car door. “Come on,” he says, “this shouldn’t take long.”

            Though clearly still hesitant, Eddie follows. Once they’ve made their way inside and up the stares to his room, he asks, “What are we here for?”

            “To pack a bag,” Richie answers.

            Eddie freezes. “To-  _what_?!”

            Shrugging, Richie explains, “I mean, you can wear my clothes, but I figured you’d probably want some of your own. Oh, and any spare cash you’re willing to bring would be cool, too.”

            “N-No, Rich,” Eddie stammers out, “I mean- what the fuck am I packing a bag for? What’s going on?”

            Richie sighs heavily, any trace of a smile falling away. “Okay, fine, I’m taking you for a little getaway. Only for the weekend, since I know you won’t want to miss school, but we deserve a break from Derry.”

            “Rich–”

            “No, Eds, listen,” he interrupts hastily, his eyes a little panicked. “I know it sounds crazy, and it’s out of nowhere, but-  _god_ , you don’t understand the shit I’ve been through for this, so- please? Please, just go along with it?”

            Frowning, Eddie scans Richie’s features, as if seeking out any sort of hint as to whether or not he’s being serious. After a moment of searching, he exhales slowly and nods. “Okay,” he agrees, spinning around to grab an empty backpack from his closet and shove clothes into it.

            Richie can feel tears stinging the back of his eyes, but he quickly blinks them away and grins, offering to help gather whatever Eddie might need for the following few days.

            Soon enough, they’re on the road. It feels just like yesterday (except, not Wednesday, the Thursday before this one), with the music loud and the two of them singing along, and Richie wonders if they’ll hold hands again (hopes that they’ll do more, hopes that they’ll wake up in a hotel on Friday morning with full hearts and genuine smiles). The drive still takes two hours, and they stop at the same gas station for the same snacks, and when the city comes into sight Eddie gasps.

            “Rich,” he breathes, a small, awe-struck smile on his face. “Are you...”

            Richie feels his heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he nods, eyes glued to the road. “I, uh- you mentioned once that you haven’t been to Portland since you were a kid, and after Bill and Bev came out for a weekend, you looked kind of jealous, so... yeah.”

            After a few moments of silence, Richie nervously glances over to find Eddie staring at him with wide eyes, a fond look on his features. “Richard Tozier,” he finally says, sounding almost breathless, “you are a fucking blessing to this earth. Did you know that?”

            “Oh.” The word falls from Richie’s lips unintentionally, but he can’t help it as he feels his cheeks turn red and turns back to look at the road. “I, uh- I don’t... Thank you, Eds.”

            “No, thank  _you_ ,” Eddie insists. “Seriously, I know this sounds weird because I always shit talk you but-  _fuck_. This is just... I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve  _you_ , Rich.”

            Okay, no. Fuck that.

            Richie suddenly pulls off the main road and into the first empty parking lot he can find, causing Eddie to let out a small gasp of shock as the car comes to a sudden stop. “I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth again,” Richie states, leveling Eddie with a look full of sincerity. “You- Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie, you deserve way better than this. I’ll do this every fucking weekend if I have to, I’d do literally anything for you, just to deserve a place in your life, because you’re fucking- you- you’re _you!_ You’re Eddie fucking Kaspbrak and you deserve all the good things the world has to offer, okay?”

            There’s a moment where they just stare at each other, the silence between them so dense and heavy in their lungs that they could choke. Right as Richie is about to mutter some lame joke to try and change the subject, Eddie lunges forward and presses their lips together.

            And Richie knows.

            He knows that this is the last repeated day. He knows that he’s going to end this, and that they’ll wake up together Friday morning and everything will be okay. Most of all, though, he knows that he doesn’t really know, that he very well might have to go through this a hundred times more, but he knows that he’ll do it willingly just to save Eddie because, fuck, he’s so in love, and he hopes that they way he kisses back, eager and excited, shows it.

            Eddie has his hands in Richie’s hair, fingers tangled in the curls, and he uses the grip to pull them impossibly closer. Richie rests his hands on Eddie’s waist, gentle and loving, and after a few moments of heavy kissing he slows it down, makes it soft. Sighing happily into the motion, Eddie carefully untangles his fingers and rest one hand on Richie’s jaw, the other combing through the hair at the nape of Richie’s neck.

            And, eventually, after who knows how long, Richie pulls away with a smile.

            “You mean that?” Eddie breathes.

            With another quick peck, Richie promises, “All of it.”

            Eddie grins, wide and happy, before leaning back in his seat and shoving Richie’s shoulder. “Alright, lover boy, get to driving! Spending all weekend in a random parking lot isn’t exactly the way to woo me, now is it?”

            “Oh, trust me,” Richie says, “I have  _plenty_  of ideas for the weekend. Take a look at that–” he gestures to the map he marked up this morning, still laying on the dashboard, as he pulls back onto the road, “-and pick out what you like the most. Whatever it is, that’s what we do tomorrow.”

            Humming, Eddie does as instructed, unfolding the map to examine all of the circled parts and read all of the scribbled writing. “Jesus, Rich,” he breathes, eyebrows rising in shock. “You really thought this all out.”

            Shrugging, Richie says, “What can I say? I’m trying to win a seventeen-year-old boy’s heart.”

            “You don’t have to work that hard,” Eddie mumbles, biting his lower lip in thought as he contemplates the options on the map. “It’s been yours since we were thirteen, dickwad.”

            Richie’s grin widens, and yeah. Yeah, he’d go through a million more Thursday’s just to hear those words.

 

 

 

 

            “So, what’s on the agenda tonight, lover boy?” Eddie asks from where he’s laying on the bed, having just finished bringing all their clothes for the weekend up to their motel room.

            From across the room, Richie checks the time and replies, “It’s almost four, so we have time to go get some dinner before it gets dark.”

            Eddie cocks an eyebrow, turning his head to look at the taller boy. “Before dark? Is that important?”

            “Maybe,” Richie shrugs, a glint in his eyes. “You’ll have to wait and see, babe.”

            “Fuck you, Tozier,” Eddie sighs, though there’s no heat behind his words. “You and all your damn surprises.”

            Richie pouts dramatically. “Are you saying you don’t like this surprise?”

            Smiling, Eddie rolls off the bed and onto his feet, quickly crossing the room and bracing his hands on Richie’s shoulder as he stands on the tips of his toes, kissing him sweetly. “I love it,” he says when he pulls away. “Now let’s go, lover boy, I’m fucking starving.”

            “And they say romance is dead,” Richie deadpans, rolling his eyes with a grin as he takes Eddie by the hand, making sure he has money and their room key before making their way outside. He’s extra cautious when they cross the street, making sure Eddie’s in front of him so that he can push him out of harm’s way if necessary, but thankfully nothing happens.

            They stop at a burger place on the corner, ordering their food to go at Richie’s insistence. “Trust me, I have an idea,” he promises Eddie softly, and Eddie’s nodding along before he’s even registered Richie’s words. With their food in hand, Richie leads them back to the motel, grabbing a couple blankets before guiding Eddie up the stairs.

            “What’re we doing, Rich?” Eddie asks, confused as they push open the door leading to the roof. “I don’t think we’re allowed up here.”

            Richie finds a good spot for them to sit and drops the blankets, saying, “Tonight, we eat dinner and watch the sunset. A pretty good first date, I’d say.” Turning to grin at Eddie, he grabs one of the blankets and drapes it over Eddie’s shoulders, whispering, “And we’re definitely not allowed up here, but I won’t tell if you won’t. It’ll be our secret.”

            “Just ours?” Eddie asks. “We have a lot of those, Rich. It’s getting hard to keep track”

            “Eh,” Richie shrugs, “I think we’ll be fine. We can make a list of all our secrets when we get back.”

            Laughing, Eddie rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah, sure, lover boy. Sounds like a plan.”

            Richie doesn’t respond at first, instead turning around to spread two of the blankets on the ground for them to sit on. Once they’re actually sat down and eating their burgers, he speaks up to ask, “Why do you keep calling me that?”

            “Calling you what?”

            “Lover boy,” he says, tilting his head. “You’ve called me it like thirty times today.”

            Eddie purses his lips, his cheeks tinted a light red. “Well, uh- we kissed, y’know? And it felt weird to just call you Rich or something normal after that, so I said the first thing that came to mind, and it kind of just felt right?” He faces Richie then, meeting gazes with a sheepish smile as he finishes, “You’re a fucking loser, Tozier, but you’re- like- the love of my life, and hopefully my lover boy. If you want that.”

            They stay like that for a moment, before Richie swallows thickly and mutters, “Jesus, Eds, you don’t even have to ask,” and then they’re kissing slowly, so much love between them that it’s practically visible in the air they breathe.

            About a half hour later, once their food is consumed and the sky is beginning to turn into a deep pink, Eddie is resting his head on Richie shoulder and he softly asks, “What made you do all of this, ‘Chee?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “I mean, like…” Eddie sighs, taking a moment to think of his next words. “Just,  _this_ , I guess. This whole weekend, it’s so sudden and- don’t get me wrong, I love it, and I’m glad it’s happening, but... I don’t know, it feels like there’s more to it.”

            Richie goes still, unsure of how to respond. There are many options, each one farther from the truth than the last, but lying just... doesn’t seem like an option. With that thought, he timidly answers, “Well, there is, but it’s going to sound insane, so just... hear me out okay?” He pauses, nervous to go on, but eventually forces out the words, “I don’t know if it’s a weird, fucked up nightmare, or if it’s real, but–”

            “You don’t have to tell me,” Eddie interrupts, leaning back to look at Richie in concern. “Whatever it is, if you don’t want to say it, you don’t have to.”

            Shaking his head, Richie decides, “I do. I want to.”

            So, he does.

            He starts from the beginning, about how he had woken up on the first Thursday, about how they got in that horrible car crash before he woke up in his bed. He talks about how he was sure it was a dream, until he got to school and saw everyone in the same outfit they’d been wearing and how it made his sick. He talks about how he went through seven Thursday’s before he decided it had to be real, and he figured that the only way to end the cycle was to save Eddie.

            He talks about the Thursday before this one, where he was so certain he’d figured it out, only to have it taken away right before sunset. He talks about how this is the farthest they’ve made it and how he hopes this is the last one, because seeing Eddie die so many times has been the worst thing to ever happen to him, even if it did lead to him realizing that he’s in love with the shorter boy.

            When he’s done talking, the sky has turned from pink to orange, and Eddie is silent, soaking in everything he just heard. Just as Richie is beginning to worry, he says, “I believe you, Rich.”

            Richie blinks. “You- what?”

            “I believe you,” Eddie repeats, making sure their eyes are locked so that Richie can see that he’s being serious. “I mean, after the shit that we’ve been through, there’s not much I wouldn’t believe, but I’ll  _always_  believe you, okay?”

            And- oh. That’s right, they’ve been through some crazy things—

            (down in the sewers with blood on his shoes and kids floating in the air and a clown with wide eyes and sharp teeth and an evil laugh and the whole gang is there and they’re fighting, they’re  _winning_ )

            —how could he forget? When he thinks about it, it makes sense that something like this would happen, too. That’s just how the world goes.

            “Okay,” he says.

            Eddie smiles at him and holds his hand, and they’re quiet as they watch the rest of the sunset, only going back to their motel room once it’s pitch black outside. They lay in bed, side by side, silent, and Richie wants to sleep but he can’t take his eyes off the clock, watching, waiting, hoping.

            When midnight strikes, nothing changes. Eddie presses a chaste kiss to Richie cheek in the darkness and whispers, “Happy Friday, lover boy. Looks like we made it.”

            Richie’s throat tightens with tears as he buries his face into Eddie’s neck, pulling them close together. They fall asleep like that, and when they wake up it’s still Friday, and everything is okay.

            And Richie knows that he’d do anything for Eddie Kaspbrak, even if anything is go through twenty-four horrible Thursday’s just to get the twenty-fifth one right, even if anything is drive them to Portland for the weekend just to get a break, even if anything is sneak out of their motel at six in the morning just to have coffee and breakfast ready when Eddie wakes up two hours later with a dopey smile and a lovestruck gaze.

            Even if anything is nothing, even if anything is everything, Richie would do it all. For now, though, they have the whole weekend ahead of them, and that’s all that matters.

**Author's Note:**

> the story behind this: i woke up like a week and a half ago and randomly remembered that one episode of supernatural where sam lives the same day on repeat, and then i was like... yeah i’m gonna write a reddie fic based on that.
> 
> so let me know what you think!! and if you have any ideas for stuff that you might want me to write, hmu on tumblr (sunsetozier)!!
> 
> and, psst... there will be a sequel...eventually...


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